Of Pranks and Pyrotechnics
by Rapier Oddpick
Summary: One hundred moments shared between Fred Weasley and Seamus Finnigan.
1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:** This is the beginning of a challenge of 100 prompts. So, logically, there should be 100 chapters to this fic. If I complete the challenge. Most of the chapters are not going to be in chronological order, nor will any of them be very long, so we'll be jumping all over the place as far as Fredmus moments go. But, I found it fitting to start at the beginning with the first chapter. Enjoy.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. Not technically. Even the name Fletwock belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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><p>It was downright <em>impossible<em> to miss a Weasley if one was nearby. There were other red and orange haired students, but there was something so vibrant about the Weasley hair that made them stick out like red, sore thumbs.

Despite this, Seamus Finnigan noticed none of the four Weasley's present in the Great Hall as he sat on the stool at the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts, Sorting Hat about to be dropped onto his sandy-haired head. He gripped onto the edge of the stool when the Hat slipped onto his head and over his eyes, engulfing him in black. He licked his lips, gulping.

With a bellow of "GRYFFINDOR" Seamus was ushered in with raucous applause. He sat himself down, nerves slowly fading away now that he at least knew to which house he belonged, a wavering smile of relief on his lips. A hand clamped onto his shoulder.

"Well done!" Seamus glanced up, now beaming by the warm welcome—pleased he'd ended up in a friendly house—to meet a pair of dancing brown eyes, creased by the amused smirk that adorned the ginger boy's face. "Fred Weasley," he introduced himself, sliding his hand down the length of Seamus's arm and pumping his hand vigorously.

An identical set of shimmering brown eyes peered around Fred. "Well done indeed!" this twin exclaimed, taking Seamus's hand once Fred was done. "George Weasley."

Together they grinned broadly, saying in unison, "Welcome to the best house."

"It's gonna be a great year," George assured him.

Fred winked. "Lots of fun to be had."

And then it was time for the next student—something Fletwock—to be sorted, and the Gryffindor table settled back into silence and hushed whispers.


	2. Earth

Seamus always swore he could feel the Earth move.

When he was little, laying in the garden and staring up at the clouds, he declared he could feel the Earth spinning, the clouds staying still in the sky while the Earth moved him further from the fox shaped cloud and closer to the one that resembled an hyena.

Now, in his teenage years, he still swore he could feel the Earth move. Except now it moved around Fred Weasley. The way he laughed, the way he smiled, the way his eyes shone with pride at a prank well done.

D. A. meetings were the highlights of the year. The best times to feel the Earth move, what with the way Seamus's fox-like patronus would dart lithely between the dancing legs of Fred's hyena-esque one.

And when Fred winks across the room as the misty figures play, Seamus swears he can feel the Earth move.


	3. Brown

Lavender Brown.

She was the first girl to walk past after Fred informed him that it was Angelina—and not Seamus—that he would be taking to the Yule Ball.

She was the first girl that Seamus had slow danced with, whose toes he'd awkwardly stepped on, blushing slightly and smiling in apology.

She was the first girl that Seamus kissed, even more awkward than the previous dancing, but once they'd figured things out, it went pretty well.

She was the first girl that Seamus slept with—hastily and up against a brick wall, thinking of Fred the entire time, feeling bad for thinking of Fred, knowing how fragile Lavender was. But it couldn't be helped.

Fred Weasley.

He was the first person that Seamus fell in love with.


	4. Purple

Seamus stared into his cauldron of poorly brewed Amortentia. It was meant to be a pearly white, but Seamus had seemingly burnt his, resulting in a shimmery, deep purple. Seamus was thankful it hadn't exploded—yet.

He glanced around at his fellow classmates, wondering how easy—or difficult, he supposed was the correct word—it would be to extract a vile or two without being caught by Slughorn or another student.

He licked his lips, weighing his options, his gaze fleeting to the semi-bubbling liquid. Then again, how well would burnt Amortentia work after the amount of mucking up he had done? He would admit, the smell of fire and freshly lit matches was attractive, but _this_ just smelled bad. Like the all-too-familiar scent of scorched hair.

Seamus sighed in defeat.

He'd just have to practice brewing the potion before trying it out on a certain ginger.


	5. Outsides

Seamus wasn't what you'd call a romantic, but he quite enjoyed the notion of spending an entire day in bed with Fred Weasley. Counting freckles and playing connect-the-dots with his fingertips.

Seamus could just imagine it, the two of them lying beside each other, stroking hair and staring into the other's eyes, Fred whispering what he thought were "sweet nothings" to Seamus in a mock Irish accent, making the shorter boy blush and laugh quietly, averting his eyes in slight embarrassment.

But that was only what Seamus imagined.

In truth, Seamus did count freckles—from afar, on the rare occasion that Fred was sitting or standing relatively still. Seamus would connect-the-dots in his mind, blushing when Fred caught him staring, laughing to try and alleviate the awkwardness of the situation, averting his eyes when that didn't work, stroking his own hair anxiously as he sped from the scene, offering up the excuse to his friends that he had a paper that had completely slipped his mind due in a few hours. And then he'd hide out in his dormitory, lying alone on his bed and hitting himself in the forehead for being fool enough to even think such things. Such wonderful, impossible things about Ron's older brother.

Ron's wonderful, impossible-to-attain older brother.


End file.
